


Unflinching

by CityofOlicity



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bratva, Bratva AU, Bratva Oliver, F/M, Fluff, High School, High School AU, Mystery, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn, Team Arrow, russian mob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3394805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofOlicity/pseuds/CityofOlicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does that mean you’ll do it?” His voice was ice, smooth, yet beneath lay an untold danger that sent a shiver down her spine. Felicity grit her teeth, eyeing the man before her in all his looming glory.<br/>“Do I have a choice?” She ground out, and watched his lips twitch upwards, revealing a flash of teeth. It didn’t seem like a smile.<br/>“No.” He replied. Familiar blue eyes bored into her own, unflinching, cold.<br/>“Well than I guess you and I are going to be seeing a lot more of each other, Captain Queen.”</p><p>On hiatus through May, but then I'm all yours, I swear!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this one really got away from me, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Who knew bratva fics could be so fun, eh?

Felicity winced, jerking back against the hard wood of the chair as the bag was whipped from her head violently. She reeled back and screwed her eyes shut against the blinding blue light that was suddenly assaulting her senses. A harsh voice barked something to her left, before a sharp tug on her hair wrenched her head back to slam against the chair, forcing her eyes open. She blinked, allowing the scene before her to adjust to her vision. The figures of two men swam into focus. One of them, a tall, imposing man with arms the size of tree trunks, shot forwards, grabbing the hand holding her hair and twisting. She heard a yelp and a thunk, and assumed it to be Sir Grabsalot falling to his knees, releasing her hair.

“She was ordered not to be hurt,” the other man growled, looming over Grabsalot, whom she could now see to be a younger man, wearing a red hoodie, and with a jawline that could cut glass. Felicity strained against the bonds holding her wrist and fought to remain calm, despite the fact that she was pretty damn sure she was a dead woman. Why else would the men have let her see their faces, if not if they were going to kill her? Felicity opened her mouth, then hesitated, her gaze flicking between the two men and alighting on the blurred expanse of the room. From what she could see with her limited eyesight, it was some kind of underground basement, lit by an expanse of blue, flickering lights, which cut across the figures of the two men, forming jagged shadows across harsh brows and dark eyes. Felicity shivered.  

“What do you want?” It came out as a whisper, nowhere near as strong as she would have liked, but it had the two halting in their movements. The taller man, whom Felicity had now dubbed, “Muscles,” because well..yeah, turned to give her a curious look. “If this is about the pen I stole a couple weeks ago, I swear I didn’t know it was in my pocket. I’m not some pen-stealing criminal person, I mean, there was this one period in college where I may have created a super virus, but I never used it on anybody! I mean, my boyfriend did - well..ex boyfriend I suppose. Wait, you’re not recording this are you? I didn-”

“Miss Smoak,” Muscles interrupted, and Felicity’s mouth snapped shut with a click, “we’re not the police.” Felicity snorted,

“Right, yeah, should have guessed from the whole bag-on-head, chair-tying shenanigans. Not exactly cop-like behaviour, although with the current SCPD who knows?” Muscles folded his arms and tucked his chin to his chest. Was she hallucinating, or was he hiding a smile?

“You’re here, Miss Smoak, because our boss has need of your special skills.”

“Sounds dodgy,” Felicity retorted, then pressed her lips together, trying to prevent more words from spilling out. She would not make a fool of herself in front of these men. She was Felicity Smoak, strong, independent, confident IT girl, Felicity Smoak, who sure as hell wouldn’t let these jumped up mobsters get the better of her. She was cool, collected, in control. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Your boss, who is he?” She winced, “Or she, I mean, it could be a she, it’s perfectly reasonable for them to be a she, I just assumed he had man parts. Or she..uh..they..had..” An inward groan echoed inside her head. _Good one, Smoak, real Jolie-esque._ Thankfully, Muscles seemed to ignore her ramble, instead motioning towards his red hooded companion with a jerk of his chin. The younger man slid a hand into his jacket, reaching for some kind of inner pocket, a holster? Felicity flinched back, a small whimper escaping her lips. They were going to kill her. She felt the beat of her heart begin to thrum in her ears, a furious rhythm to match the rapid staccato of her breath. Not like this. A high pitched ringing began to sear through her brain, her thoughts beginning to turn foggy as she watched the man pull something black from his pocket, raising it up to-

Speak into it?

Felicity frowned and squinted, as Grabsalot muttered something into the object. His voice was low and gutteral, his words harsh. Each vowel rolled from his tongue fluidly, then cut short as his teeth clamped down on every clipped consonant. It seemed to be Russian, but of course, Felicity’s MIT major had been, hint, not languages. He finished speaking, and the sound of his voice was chased by the frenzied buzzing of static. _Not a gun, a radio._ Felicity’s thoughts were cut short, as the door suddenly flew open to slam against the wall with a sharp crack. Her head flew up, and she watched as a dark figure moved to enter the room, his face cast in shadow by the jagged light above. As he moved closer, blurred shapes began to realign, revealing stubbled cheeks, framing an angular jaw and striking blue eyes, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since...no. Felicity’s heart pounded as she took in his sandy hair, now cropped short, unlike the first time. He was taller, leaner, harder, changed, except for his eyes; she could never forget those eyes. Muscles moved to stand next to him, his eyes flicking between the two,

“Miss Smoak, I’d like to introduce you to our Captain-”

“Oliver Queen,” she breathed. Oliver took a final step forwards. His lips twitched up into a barbed smirk, but his eyes remained cold as he uttered,

“Hello again, Smoak.”

 

**[7 years ago]**

 

“Hey, Smoak!”

Felicity stumbled to a halt at the sound of her name, much to the ire of the several students behind her. She heard fleeted mutterings about crowded hallways, before they pushed past, the bag of one of the students clipping her shoulder, and sending the pile of books clutched in her hands tumbling to the floor.

“Frack,” Felicity muttered, dropping to her knees and scrabbling to pick up the worn manuals. She was so engrossed in the process, that she hardly noticed a pair of jean clad legs kneeling beside her. That was, until a calloused hand settled over her own, jolting her from her thoughts. Felicity let out a muffled squeak, as her gaze darted up to reveal the handsome face of one Oliver Queen. _Double frack._

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he murmured, his lips sliding into a lopsided grin, which.. _wow.._ was totally unfair. Felicity looked like a startled deer, crouched on the floor as she was, eyes wide in shock at the face before her. She abruptly realized she was staring and shook herself,

“Oh, no, it’s my fault for being such a clutz, I mean, it’s kinda your fault, but I have the grace of an inebriated hedgehog..which I just realized is a really weird image, I’m sorry, I’m babbling, it’s just really hard to concentrate when you’re doing _that_ with your face.” His smile widened into an all out grin,

“My face?” His blue eyes danced with mirth, and Felicity flushed beet red. She hurried to collect the rest of her books, but her attempt to escape was thwarted when a strong arm scooped the books from her grasp.

“Here, let me carry these, I think they’re safer with me. You’re going to English, right?”

“Right.” Felicity gulped, getting to her feet to walk alongside Oliver, as they moved through the now empty hallway. “So, why did you call my name?” She mumbled, hesitant to meet his eyes, lest she start rambling again. Why did he have to be so damn pretty?

“Oh right, that.” Oliver paused and raked a hand through his hair, looking suddenly uncertain. He shifted from foot to foot and rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish smile, “Well, see, I’ve been having some trouble in math, a lot of trouble actually, and I heard that you were the person to come and see.”

Felicity frowned, tilting her head to the side,

“Come and see?” She repeated, raising an eyebrow. Oliver huffed and moved closer, his eyes darting from corner to corner as he almost whispered,

“For..you know, tutoring.” Felicity burst out laughing.

“You want me to tutor you?” She questioned through fits of giggles, which she quickly stifled with her hand as she took in the hurt expression on Oliver’s face.

“Why not?”

Felicity tried to school her expression, but couldn’t help the incredulous look that had her eyebrows hiked and her head cocked.

“Well, because I’m Felicity Smoak, IT nerd and you’re well...you.” She gestured vaguely in his direction, hands flailing.

“I’m not seeing the problem here.” Oliver deadpanned. Felicity sighed,

“Do you really want your jock friends to see you hanging around with someone like me?”

Oliver’s jaw locked, his eyes flashing angrily,

“If by ‘someone like you’, you mean a smart, beautiful girl who could probably melt my computer with two minutes of WiFi and a brick phone, then that’s exactly what I want.” He folded his arms over the books he still carried, and gave her a stubborn look, his bright azure eyes boring into her own with a fierce intensity. Felicity felt a blush rising from her neck and broke his gaze, fighting to maintain her composure. After a few seconds, she muttered,

“Thirty seconds.”

“What?” Oliver’s brows knitted in confusion.

Felicity’s head raised, her lips curving into a playful smirk, “Thirty seconds; that’s how long it would take me to melt your computer.” She shrugged, “FYI.” Oliver grinned,

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” Felicity smile widened at the hopeful tinge to his voice, whilst the butterflies in her stomach jumped, (or well, flapped,) to attention. She stepped forwards and slid the books from his grasp, finally replying,

“You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, Queen.”

 

[7 years later]

 

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” His voice was ice, smooth, yet beneath lay an untold danger that sent a shiver down her spine. Felicity grit her teeth, eyeing the man before her in all his looming glory.

“Do I have a choice?” She ground out, and watched his lips twitch upwards, revealing a flash of teeth. It didn’t seem like a smile.

“No.” He replied. Familiar blue eyes bored into her own, unflinching, cold.

“Well than I guess you and I are going to be seeing a lot more of each other, Captain Queen.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a huge thank you to my beta arrows-and-fairytales, who carried me through this, and gave me bucketloads of advice. I couldn’t do this without you, bestie! Secondly, I’m exceptionally sorry for how long this update has taken, some stuff happened that couldn’t be avoided, but I promise I’ll do better. Big plans for chapter three!

Felicity was sick and tired of waking to unfamiliar rooms, with no recollection of how she’d gotten there. She opened her eyes to find herself lying atop a soft mattress, sprawled across a bed that seemed to span the entirety of her body length twice over. She groaned and sat up, her vision swinging alarmingly. Once her head had adjusted to the double bass drum solo thrumming behind her eyes, she slid herself off the bed and moved to scan her surroundings. The room was ornate, fitted with a four poster bed, high arching ceilings and several expensive looking paintings. Pale light streamed through a large window to the side of the room, dancing from object to object, splaying golden patterns in its wake. _They wouldn’t be so careless, would they?_ Felicity frowned and moved towards the window, fingering the catch with uncertainty. The smooth metal slid across her fingertips with ease, as she reached to pull it down.

“I wouldn’t try it, if I were you.”

Felicity whirled, pressing herself against the window, eyes wide as they latched onto the burning blue gaze of Oliver Queen.

“And why the hell not?” She bit back, watching him prowl towards her, completely at ease, but for his eyes; they drilled into her own with a chilling sharpness, as if cutting into her very soul.

“Because, Miss Smoak, this house is five miles away from any neighboring building.” He continued to move towards her as he spoke. His voice was quiet, yet it seemed to echo around the suddenly cold room, “My guards are patrolling every exit and entrance, every nook and cranny within that five mile radius.” He was mere inches away now, close enough for her to touch, “If you try to run, they’ll catch you.” Felicity’s eyes flicked over the strong set of his jaw, the cool determination in his eyes; they traced the hard line of his mouth and tripped over white scars crisscrossing his arms. She looked at him, so different from the boy she had met all those years ago, and couldn’t help the small flicker of sympathy that shot through her.

“What happened to you?” She whispered. Oliver’s eyes shuttered, his entire body going rigid with tension.

He raised his chin and ground out through gritted teeth,

“A lot.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door his hand shooting out to grab the handle with a white knuckled grip. He jerked it open, but instead of leaving, addressed someone outside the door. “Принесите его в,” he snapped, with a jerk of his head. Felicity’s brows hiked as a short, squat desk was wheeled into the room, followed by the two men she had seen earlier - Muscles and Grabsalot (she really needed to get better nicknames) - both of whom were lugging boxes into the room. “You’ll be needing these for what I have planned.” Oliver said, stepping aside to let the two men pass.  Felicity’s eyes widened as they alighted on the contents of the boxes. As Grabsalot proceeded to dump the contents heavily onto the bed, Felicity shot to her feet, anger spiking through her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She snapped, her eyes locking on the younger man, who spun to face her, shock flashing across his face. She bent to pick up one of the objects and advanced, eyes blazing. “Do you have any idea what this is?” She questioned, much to the confusion of Grabsalot, who shifted from foot to foot, his eyes darting to the other men, thick brows furrowing.

“No..” He opened his mouth to continue, but Felicity got there first, with a biting,

“I thought not.” She raised the object up and glared at Grabsalot over its grey rimmed top, “ _This_ is a satellite frequency communicator DX500. I bet you don’t even know how to _spell_ that.”

“Well actually-” he huffed, but Felicity’s gaze had already darted to the next box-ridden object, her mouth dropping open,

“Oh god what have you done to the poor thing?” Letting out a pained whimper, she hurried over to the box, reaching in and fingering the scratched grey surface of the computer modem within. The miserable thing looked to be on its last legs, battered beyond belief and scored with marks, she was surprised it was still standing.  Felicity ran a thumb over its worn grooves and roughened buttons, feeling the familiar cool touch of plastic, marred by the coarse scratch of jagged scores. She raised angry eyes to Oliver, who stood rigidly in the corner, arms folded, jaw set as he watched her with a cool calculation that set her teeth on edge.

“If this is your idea of torture, it’s working.” She announced, gesturing to the poor modem, “seeing a computer so mistreated hurts me, in my soul.” She heard a low chuckle to her right and turned, surprised to find Muscles grinning from the doorway, shoulders shaking with each small sound,

“I like her.” He remarked, his deep brown eyes dancing with mirth. Oliver ignored the statement, instead making his way over to the boxes to stand opposite Felicity. She wished he wouldn’t do that, from here she had no choice but to meet his piercing gaze full on, rather than let her eyes wander the room, safe from the magnetic pull of his own.

“We’ll bring you more updated equipment soon, for now I’m sure you can use that for what I need from you. I’ve seen you work with less.” Felicity tried to ignore the sharp twinge in her chest at his recollection, pushing on, lest her mind begin to wander to pleasant days past, the sound of tapping keys and airy laughter, a mess of blonde hair and bright, blue eyes warm with love.  

She shook herself, “And what exactly is that? What you do want from me? I mean, you’ve mentioned my ‘special skills,’ - which btw, sounds really sketchy - but you haven’t actually told me what you want. Whatever it is, it’s bad, definitely illegal, otherwise you wouldn’t have kidnapped me, put on this whole charade.”  Felicity watched the muscle tighten in Oliver’s jaw, saw a flicker of something flash across his face. Her voice began to rise as she spoke, each word that spilled from her mouth stronger than the last, as she advanced.

“But there’s one big problem here, Oliver. . . what the hell makes you think I’ll do anything for you? You said I didn’t have a choice before, I’m guessing that means you’ll kill me if I say no, but would you really, Oliver?” She paused in front of him, her voice softening to the barest of whispers, whilst her eyes delved into his own, searching, seeking.“Could you do that?”

He returned her gaze head on, face mere inches away as their eyes raged a silent battle.  She could feel his warm breath against her cheek from where he loomed over her, hear the crackle of tension between them, see the fire that raged in his eyes, burning away the ice that had once been present. The silence mounted. It surrounded them, pressing against pursed lips and clenched fists in a suffocating blanket that drew tighter and tighter, until it was shattered by a single word:

“Hostages.”

Felicity blinked, “Excuse me?”

Oliver grit his teeth and ground out slowly, voice low, eyes never once straying from her own,

“Five of my men have been captured by a rival gang, most likely the triad. You’re going to get them back for me.”

Felicity scoffed, jerking her chin up,“Oh I am, am I?”

“Yes.” He snapped viciously, looming over her further and forcing her head to tilt back, lest she break the fierce battle of wills that raged between their locked eyes. She refused to step back, reluctant to show any sign of weakness to the hulking man before her. “You’re going to find them. Not because I’m threatening you. Not because I’m keeping you here. No. You’re going to get them back because, if there’s one thing I know about you, Felicity Smoak, it’s that you would never let an innocent man die.” He pushed on, each coarse, clipped word sending a shiver down her spine, “But they won’t all die. Some of them will be tortured, beaten bloody until they can barely move, much less fight back, until all they can feel is the sharp bite of the knife, all they can hear is the strangled cries of their colleagues and the dull beat of fists pounding against flesh. They’ll be twisted, broken, rendered into nothing but a piece of meat with no purpose, but to spill secrets.” Felicity knew her mouth had dropped open, and the blood had drained from her face, leaving her pale, shaken, fearful. He leaned forwards, his voice dropping impossibly low, “Now tell me, Felicity, could you live with that?”

His final words seemed to echo in the silence of the room, shooting through Felicity like a bullet and sending her reeling backwards, finally breaking his gaze. Her head dropped, eyes sinking to stare dully at the floor. She knew she couldn’t refuse, and so did he.

“Fine,” it came out a mere whisper, a broken thing that forced itself from her lips and hung quietly in the air. Oliver nodded, and she felt a brief flash of heat as he brushed past her and moved towards the door. She heard him mutter something quietly to the two men, but refused to turn, instead remaining faced away from the door, head down, fists clenched at her side. She remained in that position, until the gentle brush of wood, and the soft snick of a lock being turned let her know she was alone. Instantly, her head shot up, her feet eating up the distance to bring her opposite to the boxes laying on the bed. Her previous defeated expression shattered like glass as she reached in and lifted out the grey object within, a small smile curving her lips upwards and filling her eyes with fire. She wasn’t done yet, it wasn’t over. They’d brought her here, locked her away and forced her to do their bidding, but in doing so, they’d provided her with the one thing that gave her the biggest advantage - technology. Oliver thought he had her beaten. He thought he could continue going as he was, using her as a pawn in his games, but he was wrong. As she ran a thumb over the satellite communicator, a single burning thought emblazoned itself in her mind; she’d be damned if she wasn’t going down without a fight.

  
  
         

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave feedback in the comments, I absolutely love reading them; they give me gooey squishy feelings that are wholly unnatural to my ice cold demeanour. The prompt that inspired this fic was from an anonymous user:  
> Olicity prompt!!!! High school au jock and nerd. Turn into bravta when olderr.
> 
> Feel free to drop me your own on my tumblr blog, cityofolicity.tumblr.com, but don't feel obliged, I'm just glad anybody is actually reading this.


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